Goa'uld Writing Utensils
by Flatlander Jr
Summary: Pencils can be very helpful in close combat. Really, they can. And blue crystal aliens are very good at the twist.


GOA'ULD WRITING UTENSILS

DANIELLE FRANCES DUCREST

Disclaimers: Stargate belongs to Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Products. No copyright infringements were intended. This story was written for entertainment and not for profit. 

Authors Notes: Okay, so maybe you've noticed that all of my humor stories have been seriously unbelievable and cheesy. Well, this is definitely one of the worse ones in that category. I hope you can stand it all! And please don't shoot me after you're done reading it. In fact, you can't. It's forbidden. Mwahahahahahahahaha!

Summary: Pencils are really handy close combat weapons. Really, they are. 

***** 

"Get back, you bloody pig! I'll show you how to make a sausage, you overgrown ham!" 

O'Neill pushed the Jaffa aside with his pencil and saw Carter shout those words while she tried to chase this weird pig-like creature back through the Stargate. It had come through with everything else-the Jaffa guards armed with writing utensils, the Goa'uld who was now lying on the ground crying his eyes out like a two-year-old throwing a tantrum, and the various animal-like creatures that had come through the Gate with them. The whole room was splattered with pig and cow meat and vegetables and fruits (the foodstuffs were tomatoes and other things like that. They were thrown through the Gate right before the techs up in the control room closed the iris to stop from getting rained on by overgrown red tomatoes).

The Goa'uld had come through the iris using a Tollan device that allowed them to walk through solid matter. When they'd come through, the techs shut down the wormhole. Now an outgoing wormhole was established. The SGC planned to send all of the Jaffa and Goa'uld and whoever those creatures were back through the gate and to whatever planet they came from, then they planned to send their own batch of tomatoes through for good measure. One of those tomatoes would really be a disguised grenade, of course (Only one of them was a grenade, although Jack had opted to make them all grenades. General Hammond had overruled him because they had plenty of rotten tomatoes that the cafeteria staff had been dying to get rid of-one of them even collapsed last week-and they didn't have enough grenades to spare if they wanted to stay in budget).

So, here they were. SG-1 was busy trying to force the invaders back through the Gate, then they'd send their tomato ammunition through, shout, "Tell your friends about us!," then close the iris and hope whenever they sent the MALP through all they'd find would be splattered tomatoes and tomato sauce. 

In the present, while the Goa'uld leader of this merry bunch of Jaffa and animal warriors lay on the ground wailing his heart out, Daniel did his part by reading the symbols on the Goa'uld's armor and taking notes. 

Jack watched as a Jaffa guard ran toward the archeologist's back, pencil in hand, but Daniel pivoted in time to block with his own pencil, and succeeded in pushing that guard back. The Jaffa lost his balanced and fell back onto one of those animal creatures, making both of them collapse onto the ground. 

Meanwhile, Jack's own Jaffa sparing partner came back with a cry of outrage. He pressed his eraser to Jack's face and rubbed. It slid across his lips before Jack managed to back away. "Yuck!" he said, trying to get the rubber taste off his flesh. 

Teal'c suddenly appeared behind the Jaffa with his own pencil raised. "Jaffa, kre!" he said. The Jaffa face-rubber turned, and Teal'c raised his pencil and drew a long gray line from one end of the Jaffa's face to the other.

"No! Not the face!" the Jaffa cried. He ran up the ramp and through the Stargate, screaming and crying.

The other Jaffa and animal things followed suit, mooing and oinking and squealing and meowing as they went. The Goa'uld got up off the floor, startling Daniel enough to make his papers fly all over the place, and shouted, "I'll be back! You haven't heard the last from the God of the Muses!" Then he ran up the ramp. 

"I doubt it," Jack said, wiping squash and tomato off of his uniform. 

The General ran in. His uniform was, of course, completely clean, since he didn't do any of the fighting anymore, which was one of the perks of being the commanding officer on the base, including overruling the Colonel about decisions about grenades. He smiled and motioned for a few more completely clean SGC personnel to follow him into the Gate Room. They carried several boxes full of tomatoes. 

They put the boxes down, opened them, took out their slingshots and placed the tomatoes onto them. "Ready, aim, fire!" General Hammond ordered. The sling-shooters happily complied, shooting hordes of killer tomatoes through the open wormhole in the middle of the Stargate. In the background, Jack and Daniel made cheering sounds, such as farting under their armpits and throwing smashed squash and pieces of an unidentifiable substance up into the air (possible some sort of alien fruit or vegetable, although even that was hard to tell). 

When all the rotten cafeteria tomatoes had been disposed of, the Iris was closed and the wormhole was shut down. SG-1 crowded around each other as they wiped whatever-it-was off their clothes. 

"Who the heck was that, anyway?" Jack asked. 

"He said he was the God of the Muses, Jack," Daniel reminded him. "In Greek mythology, the Muses gave the arts and creative ideas to mortals. The Arts include writing, which is where the pencils came from, I guess."

"Thank you, Daniel," Jack said insincerely. 

Hammond came over to them, staying an arm's length away to avoid getting splattered as the four team members cleaned themselves as best they could. "Report to the infirmary immediately."

"But sir," Sam interjected, "All they did was write on us, sir. I hardly think that a trip to the infirmary is necessary." 

"We don't know what was in that lead. It could be radioactive for all we know, so I think a trip to the infirmary is necessary. And I'm your boss, so you'll do what I tell you to do." 

A chorus of groans and "yes, sirs," echoed from the team before they trooped out into the hall. 

When they walked into the infirmary, however, what they saw wasn't Janet Frasier. It was one of those big, red armor-plated aliens from 'Foothold,' and he (or was it she?) was talking to a nurse as if he (or she) belonged there. 

"What the hell?" Jack asked, before he ordered, "Let's move out! Now! If there are more of those aliens on the base, we don't know how far they've infiltrated it!" 

SG-1 took off down the hall. The buzzer sounded and they heard heavy stomps of running feet echo down the hall, heading in their direction. They stopped in the middle of one of the windless corridors. "Is everyone armed?" Jack asked. 

"Yes, sir," Carter said, holding up her pencil. Daniel did so as well. 

"I seem to have lost my own writing utensil, O'Neill. If I may, I would appreciate if you can lend me one." 

Jack groaned and buried his head in his hands. "Not those weapons! Zats! Anyone have any Zats?" 

Everyone shook their heads. "Great," Jack muttered. 

The footsteps were getting louder. Jack walked over to the nearest storeroom door and opened it. He motioned for everyone to get inside. "Inside, campers!" 

He closed the door after them at the same time he saw the troops appear around the corner. Some of them looked like normal SGC personnel, while others looked like those aliens. 

He managed to close and lock the door before the soldiers could even open fire. 

When he turned back to address his team, he felt sand beneath his shoes. He looked down to see the floor covered in yellow sand. "What the hell?" He seemed to be saying that a lot lately. 

He turned around and realized he wasn't in the SGC anymore. He was at the bottom of a yellow sulfur sand dune in the middle of a huge desert. Behind him, as if he just stepped through it, was a Stargate. The DHD was at the bottom of a flight of steps. Looking around some more, he spotted the rest of his team at the top of the nearest sand dune. He climbed up the slope as quickly as he could to join them. 

"Does anybody know what the hell is going on?" he asked when he was almost there. 

Daniel turned and looked down at him. "Oh, hey, Jack. Come here, there's something you should see." 

When he reached the top of the slope, Jack realized he could hear dance music. Twentieth century dance music. From Earth. Puzzled, Jack glanced down into the valley below, and almost fell back down the slope he'd just climbed. 

Below, in the valley, were dozens of those blue crystal aliens that they saw a few years back in 'Cold Lazarus.' Some of them were still in crystal form, but the rest had shape-shifted into blue crystal-like human bodies. They weren't alone, though. Several Serpent, Horus, and lots of other sects of Jaffa guards were down there with them. And they were doing the weirdest thing Jack had ever seen them do. 

"They're DANCING?!?" He cried out. 

Just like he said, the Jaffa had partnered up with many of the crystals and were dancing to the Earth music. 

A crystal and Jaffa couple spotted them and hurried up the slope, looking like irresponsible teenagers. "Greetings, Tau'ri!" the Jaffa man said, smiling. 

"What are you doing?" Jack asked them, suspicious. 

The crystal alien smiled at him. "We have resolved our differences. And to seal the treaty, we decided to throw a dance party!" 

Jack stared open-mouthed at them. Then he made a ninety degree turn, a difficult thing to do on sand made of sulfur, and asked Teal'c, "Teal'c, do you think this is possible?" 

Teal'c raised an eyebrow before turning back to regard the scene below. "Given the circumstances that have taken place over the last six hours, I do believe anything is possible at this point, O'Neill." 

"Okay," Jack said. He started back down the slope, back to the Stargate. "Come on, campers. Time to head back. I don't care if those alien guys have taken over the SGC, it has gotta be better than watching aliens get drunk at a frat party." He shook his head. "This is all making absolutely no sense." 

"I think that was the point, sir," Carter said, "Since nothing that has happened to us has made sense all day."

She and Teal'c followed Jack, while Daniel paused on the slope. "Wait, Jack.We should stay. I mean, this is a previously unseen part of Goa'uld and crystal alien interaction and culture. We should stay and see if we can-"

"No, Daniel," Jack said. 

"But-"

"Daniel, we are going, and that's an order." 

Reluctantly, Daniel came down the slope. Sam dialed up home, then they all walked through the Gate. 

On the other side, they were deposited, roughly, on the ramp in the gate room. Jack looked around, noticing that the tomatoes, pencils, and squash leftovers were gone, and kissed the metal grid making up the ramp. "Oh, thank God!" 

"Um, Jack..."

He looked back up at Daniel's voice to see the whole room change in front of his eyes. It slowly faded away and was replaced by another room all together. The new room that appeared was very, very high, and a missile took up most of that space. 

Jack stared up into the four rocket engines attached the bottom of the missile. He groaned. "Please don't tell me we went back in time to 1969 again. Carter?"

Speakers set high above in the very, very tall ceiling blared to life. "Test burn in ten seconds. Ten, nine, eight..." The four watched as the engines attacked to the missile's bottom powered up. 

"Oh, shit," O'Neill said loudly. "Everyone, cover your heads!" 

His team obediently got on their knees and covered their heads. "Now what?" Daniel asked Jack. 

"Now, we hope that test burn really is a test and we don't get scorched." 

"Oh. Can we sing camp fire songs while we wait?"

The rest of SG-1 looked at him as if he'd just grown five extra heads. "Why?" Jack asked. 

"Because I haven't sung them since I was a Boy Scout." 

Everyone stared. "You were a Boy Scout? You?" Jack asked incredulously. 

Daniel looked hurt. "Of course I was! Why do you think I'm so good at camping on all of the missions to planets covered in forests?"

"Um...Look, you can sing whatever you want." 

"Yes! Thanks, Jack. Here goes; here we sit like birds in the wilderness / birds in the wilderness..."

"...two, one..."

THE END

J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J 


End file.
